Twitch: A Week In South Park
by Zarah McQuade
Summary: One week at South Park High. GAY LOVE, but pairings are being kept a secret in case of spoilage
1. MONDAY TUESDAY: Tweek

Twitch  
A South Park Love Story

Chapter One  
MONDAY  
Tweek

When Craig was nervous, he subtly pulled on his hat strings.

That was one thing Tweek Tweak had observed and noted about his best friend. He never told Craig about it, for fear he would overcome the twitch. And it comforted Tweek to know that other people had little ticks and such too.

When he was staring around the classroom, people thought Tweek was just being paranoid. And a lot of the time he was. But other times, he was watching people.

Today Tweek settled first on Eric Cartman. He knew what would happen soon enough, and he waited for it, because it was part of his routine and it calmed him to keep to the routine.

Kyle Broflovski, sitting beside Eric, leaned over and whispered in Stan Marsh's ear. They chuckled together for a minute before returning to silence. This triggered Eric's reflex, which was to begin tapping his foot impatiently against the floor. Eric didn't acknowledge his twitch, and nor did Tweek, instead focusing on Kyle.

It wasn't long before Kyle reached up absently and stroked a single finger along the brim of his hat. He originally did this to check his hair wasn't escaping, but even since he had his crew-cut he still had the reflex. It was like he was defective.

Like Tweek.

Stan Marsh next, and he was harder to work out. It had taken Tweek weeks to discover Stan's tick, but he had it now, and he waited with baited breath for the moment.

And there it was. Stan glanced at Kyle with a long-suffering sigh, and began tracing his finger over his own lips. Tweek had no idea why Stan did this, but it always happened after Stan looked at Kyle.

Always.

Kenny McCormick glared towards the front of the classroom unseeingly, obviously deep in thought. Without even thinking, he lifted his hands and tugged violently at the strings that tightened his hood, and it closed further around his eyes. Tweek waited for it again, counting. Twenty seconds passed before Kenny felt the need to tug the strings again. It would continue like this throughout the class, but Tweek did not continue to watch.

After himself and Craig, there was Clyde Donovan. Clyde had a problem with crossing his ankles, and drumming his fingers. In fact it was everytime Craig spared him a glance that he would shift position and twitch awkwardly, a little like Tweek did anyway. Craig had the opposite effect on Tweek that he did on Clyde.

Token was whispering to Bebe, and Tweek knew he was flirting by the way that every minute or so, Token would run his tongue daintily across his pearly white teeth. Bebe responded to every one by brushing her hair over her shoulder. It was pointless really, as everytime she did, it would just fall back to it's original place, and she would have to do it again a minute later.

And so it was that Tweek observed everyone's twitches and habits and defects. But by far the easiest, after himself of course, was Butters Stotch.

Butters sat behind Eric Cartman in relative silence, tapping his knuckles together and muttering to himself under his breath. Tweek grinned when Butters caught him staring, and gave a jerky wave. Butters' eyes lit up, and he waved back, before returning his eyes to Eric's back and muttering some more.

"Tweekers!" Came a yell beside him, and Tweek jumped off his chair, scrambling away from the sudden noise with a loud "GAH!".

When he looked up, it was to find the class staring at him, including Craig, eyebrow raised and an amused glint in his eye. His mouth, as always, remained lifeless. Tweek had never seen him smile.

"Geez, dude. You gay for Butters or something?" Cartman smirked. Tweek's eyes darted to Butters and saw the red seep across his cheeks. Butters was the most vulnerable person he knew, and he knew this comment would hurt him deeply. So he defended him the only way he could without making it worse.

"Fucktard!" He yelled at Craig. Craig's eyebrow shot up to join the other, and he looked seriously alarmed.

"Lovers tiff." Came a muffled comment from beneath Kenny's hood. He winked at Tweek afterwards, so Tweek grinned cheesily instead of flinging back an insult.

He clambered back into his seat, and eventually, the world went on around him, everyone going back to what they were originally doing. Except, he noticed, Butters, who was listening in on the conversation between himself and Craig.

"What was that about, Tweekers?" Craig asked.

"You startled me, is all." Tweek mumbled, getting a little embarrassed. "What did you want anyways?"

"Just asking if you wanted to stay over tonight?"

Tweek turned to look at Butters, who smiled shyly and nodded. Craig noticed this and frowned, but Tweek replied before he could comment.

"Love to." He grinned.

"Sweet..." Craig eyed Butters wearily, and Tweek and Butters shared a glance like two kids who got away with stealing cookies.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Craig dumped his backpack and coat by the door and kicked his shoes in the general direction of the alcove under the stairs. His parents were away for the week and his sister was at his grandma's house, so noone was around to give him the finger and tell him to 'pick his goddamn shit up'. Tweek didn't have any bags or a coat so he just stood there fiddling with his buttons. Craig growled at him and he quickly dropped his hands to his sides.

Tweek watched Craig in his natural habitat. In school, he kept on his coat and hat at all times, because it made him feel secure. But here he was, Tweek as his audence, flitting around in his loose black T-shirt. He eventually pulled off his hat and hung it on the banister.

"Come on." He motioned for Tweek to follow him up the stairs.

Craig's room was spacious and not all that messy. He pulled a blue poncho off the hook on the back of his door and slung it over himself.

"What do you want to do?" He asked Tweek, hands on hips.

Tweek shrugged. He looked about Craig's room for some form of entertainment. When he didn't answer, Craig sighed and pulled him down onto his bed.

They lay like that for a few minutes, Craig's arm cradling Tweek's head like a pillow. Tweek felt his heartbeat slow, being close to Craig. It always had this effect on him. In school, he couldn't walk the hallway without yelling or pleading for his life. But with Craig, all the twitch went right out of him, and he could lie calm like he was now.

"You want food?" Craig asked eventually, and Tweek nodded, realizing he was starving.

Craig led him back downstairs and Tweek sat obediently at the table whilst Craig pottered about the kitchen, opening and closing cupboards and bashing about pots and pans.

"You good for spagetti?" He grunted, and Tweek gave him the thumbs up. He responded by flipping him off, and Tweek dived at him and wrestled him to the floor. It was strange how Craig could laugh without smiling, but it made Tweek happy that he could at leased get _some _emotion out of the boy.

Craig rolled Tweek over unexpectedly so he was on top, and held Tweek's arms above his head by his wrists.

"Hmm, a Tweekers just for me." Craig murmured. "What should I do with him?"

Tweek knew what was coming, and braced himself, closing his eyes.

"Tickle!" Craig yelled, like a battlecry, and decended upon Tweek. Tweek squealed and wriggled and kicked at Craig until they were left in a giggling heap on the floor.

"I hate you, Craig." Tweek chuckled breathlessly.

"I know." Craig assured him, and Tweek couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw the slightest hint of an upward tilt to Craig's lips.

They ate their spagetti, with Craig's home-made sauce, and talked about nothing much.

"And what's up with Clyde recently anyways?" Tweek pointed his fork at Craig and squinted. "Always trying to make you laugh and shit?"

"Dude. isn't it obvious?" Craig raised an eyebrow. Tweek hated it when he did that, mostly because he could do it and Tweek couldn't, but also because it made him feel stupid. "The guy loves me."

Tweek froze. "What?"

"If I wanted to..." Craig hissed dramatically. "I could hit that."

A furious blush spread over Tweek's cheeks, but Craig seemed entirely unfazed.

"And do you want to?" Tweek stumbled a little over his words.

Craig shrugged. "Meh."

Tweek ate the rest of his meal in silence. Craig took their plates and washed up when they were done. He suggested they get it bed and chat before doing whatever, and Tweek followed him upstairs in silence.

Craig hung his poncho back on the door, took off his shirt and jeans, and pulled on some lounge pants. They were covered in some kind of animal, mice maybe, but Tweek was too distracted to take notice. Craig did not put on another shirt.

Tweek unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall where it would, pulled off his pants too. He stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, waiting for Craig to sigh and rifle through a drawer for what he knew Twek wanted.

"Here." He held out the T-shirt and Tweek took it, pulling it over his head. It fell just past his butt and left his skinny, milk-bottle white legs exposed.

"Fuck, dude, get in here. it's freezing." Craig advised, jumping into the bed and holding up the blankets to allow Tweek to follow. He did, still mute.

"What's up, Tweekers?"

"Why have you started calling me that?"

It was a random question and Tweek saw Craig hesitate.

"I don't know." He said eventually.

The boys didn't end up playing videogames that night. They lay in silence until they both fell asleep. All the while, Tweek couldn't help but think that-technically-Craig just came out of his poncho-stuffed closet.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

TUESDAY

Tweek was awoken by Craig tugging lightly at his hair. He often did this, and it didn't hurt Tweek, because Craig was always gentle with him, but it got his attention effectively.

"We're going to be late, Tweekers." Craig teased. He set a mug of creamy coffee on the nightstand and wafted the scent Tweek's way. Tweek sat up straight with half-lidded eyes and grabbed the coffee with shaking hands.

As he sipped, Craig asked "SO what's with you and Butters being so overly-chummy all of a sudden?"

He said it non-chalantly, as if making conversation, but Tweek saw the raw emotion behind the question and wondered what it meant.

"Oh nothing." He answered coyly, taking another sip of his drink. It was made to perfection, just the way he liked it. Craig knew what he liked. He smiled appreciatively.

Craig's eyebrows knitted together and his frown became more pronounced, but he said nothing. Instead, he waited for Tweek to put down the mug, and pulled him up out of bed.

Craig was already dressed, chullo hat rammed haphazardly on his head, some raven hair still sticking out at one side. Tweek reached out and tucked it away, and Craig allowed him to, closing his eyes on contact.

Then he whipped off Tweek's long T-shirt and pulled his shirt back on, buttoning it for him and growling warningly when Tweek's fingers trembled.

Downstairs, Craig twitched the curtains back and surveyed the outside world.

"You need a coat." He decided, whipping around toward the closet and searching for something appropriate. Tweek fiddled with his hair, making it stick up even more.

"Here." Craig said, flourishing a black coat with toggles up the front. He pulled Tweek's arms in and did up each toggle, even though there was a zip also. Tweek watched him, facinated by his unwavering fingers.

When he was done, Craig stood and put on his shoes, and left the house, Tweek following close behind.

Craig's calming effect on Tweek wasn't much of a match for his morning twitches, and so every so often Craig would spare Tweek a glance, sigh, and kneel before him to fasten up the toggles on his coat, only to have Tweek undo them again a few minutes later. But never, no matter how many times it happened, did Craig raise his voice.

He was good to Tweek like that.

They reached the school and parted ways, as they had different homerooms.

It was when he was only a few paces away when Craig heard the familiar accent of Butters Stotch greeting Tweek with an overfriendly 'Good morning!'.

He turned to watch as Butters leaned foreward to whisper in Tweek's ear. Tweek nodded vigourously and they looked around shiftily before heading towards the back wall of the school, where nobody went.

Tweek began to jitter again with Craig nowhere in sight. Butters didn't seem to mind, probably because he had his own defects and understood how Tweek felt about them.

"Okay, you ready?" Tweek asked, looking around him nervously.

"S-s-sure!" Butters chirped.

Both took a deep breath. Then Tweek nodded, and Butters reached out to take his hands.

"Okay..." Butters breathed, as if trying to convince himself of something.

"I love you." He whispered.

"Louder." Tweek instructed.

"I love you." Butters said, clearly and confidently. And both boys leaned foreward and brushed their lips together. Tweek felt a jolt in Butters' body and smiled into the kiss.

Both boys were around the same height, both short, so the kiss was relatively easy to deploy. They did not make out, did not french. They simply placed their lips together and closed their eyes contentedly. However, despite ease of arrangement, the kiss seemed awkward. It was both this and cringeworthy, as when the kiss was over both boys pulled away and began to fiddle with various parts of their clothing.

"Tweek? Butters?" Came a voice from behind them.

"Gah!" Tweek gasped. "Please don't kill me!"

He whipped around to find Craig staring, wide eyed, at the two of them. He had already dropped Butters' hands when they broke apart, but now he pushed away from Butters completely.

"Ohnonono!" He spluttered, holding up his palms. "Craig-"

"Save it." Craig told him simply, and stormed away. Tweek, in shock, could not move his legs, and simply stood and watched his best friend march out of the gates.

"Fuck..." He whispered.

And, from behind him, "Oh, hamburgers.".


	2. TUESDAY WEDNESDAY: Eric

Chapter Two  
TUESDAY  
Eric

"Butters!" Eric said forcefully, bringing his hands down solidly on the little blonde's shoulders. Butters jumped, knocking the top of his head on Eric's chin.

"Owie!" Butters cried, bringing his hands to his head.

"Fuck." Eric murmured, rubbing his chin before pulling Butters towards him. "You okay, little buddy?"

"I-I'm okay, Eric. You just startled me." Butters smiled up at him and Eric couldn't help but brush Butters' hair straight. Then he looked over Butters' head and saw Tweek Tweak, staring at them open mouthed.

"The fuck are you looking at?" Eric yelled. "Get the fuck out!"

Butters gave Tweek a look over his shoulder. Eric thought he looked a little guilty, but he couldn't understand why. He knew Butters and Tweek had been becoming pretty close over the last few weeks but surely Butters would never prefer Tweek to Eric?

Eric hated to admit it, but he loved the little fag.

Tweek got lost, wandering aimlessly across the yard, twitching everytime someone walked by.

When he was gone, Eric dropped his bravado and went back to the friendly attitude Tweek had gotten a glimpse of moments before.

"So how's it going, Butterscotch?" He asked, dropping into a crouch and leaning heavily on the wall behind him.

"N-not a whole lot Eric..." Butters sat cross-legged beside him, like a child at storytime. "Did you talk to Kyle?"

Eric was disgusted, not with the child beside him but with himself. He dropped his head into his hands and rubbed at his eyes for several moments, before looking up and simply saying "No."

"How come?" Butters asked, leaning into Eric. Eric couldn't decide if he sounded delighted or shocked.

"Because everytime I try I just end up insulting him!" Eric yelled, slamming his palms into his hair repeatedly. Butters grabbed his thick wrists and tried to hold him still. Not wanting to hurt the fragile boy, Eric held, allowing his hands to be lowered onto his own knees.

"But, Eric, we talked about this." Butters scolded. He was adorable when he scolded.

"I know, I know." Eric replied testily. He rubbed his eyes once more, his fingers coming away wet. He quickly disposed of evidence of his weakness by wiping his hands on his jeans.

"I can't talk about this here." He grunted, standing once more. "Want to come over later?"

"Yeah!" Butters replied enthusiastically, standing and clapping his hands. His childlike reaction made Eric smile, and once again he reached out to rumple Butters' messy hair.

"Thanks, kid." He said lovingly, earning a blush from Butters. He watched the red spread like wildfire over his cheeks and grinned wider.

"S-see you later, Eric!" Butters called, waving ridiculously as Eric walked away. Eric held in his echoing laughter until he was back inside the school.

He hated to admit it, but he loved the little fag.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"So," Butters turned to him from the shelves he'd been inspecting, all business. "What happened with Kyle?"

Eric grunted, unwilling to broach the subject. Their evening had been a comfortable one before Kyle's name was mentioned. They had walked home pushing and shoving eachother, Butters often falling in the snow. When they arrived at Eric's they had been given a tray laden with goodies baked by Eric's mom, and had almost finished them by this time. They spent the rest of their time surfing the net and reading comic books. Butters had been examining Eric's real books when he decided it was time to ask the all-important question.

"You want to put a movie on while we talk?" Butters asked kindly, picking up a random movie case and opening it to check for the disc.

Eric nodded but continued to stare blankly at his bedsheets. Butters ejected the disc tray and slid the movie inside. Eric couldn't help but grin when the music began to play. It was a movie about the paranormal...No way would Butters survive the night.

"You want to stay over?" He asked brightly. Butters fidgeted for a moment.

"Ain't it a school night?" He asked, chewing his lower lip.

"Yeah, it's Tuesday." Eric shrugged.

"Well, I-I guess I could ask." Butters shrugged back.

"Killer..." Eric smiled as Butters headed downstairs to use the landline.

Eric politely waited until Butters reappeared to hit play. When Butters did bound into the room, he clapped his hands gleefully and cheered "They said I could stay!"

"Awsome!" Eric grinned at him. He jumped off his bed and peeled back the blankets. Clyde frog could be found hiding in there. Eric bashfully set him on his bedside table.

"You can borrow some of my jammies if you like?" Eric suggested. Butters nodded gratefully and slipped off his shirt. Eric tried not to check him out, but it was near impossible for someone like Eric to do such a thing. He ended up staring open mouthed at Butters' creamy white, hairless chest.

"Uhh...Eric?" Butters prompted, blushing and crossing his arms over himself in embarrassment.

"Geez, dude, I'm sorry." Eric muttered, shaking himself. He quickly tossed Butters an old red T-shirt that would look like a dress on him, and picked up his own faded pyjama pants.

Eric, though he had evened out getting older, was still insecure about his strong, toned body, God Knows How. So he pulled off his shirt and got another on at lightening speed, not giving Butters even a chance at returning the favour of checking him out. Not that he thought Butters would want to. Though Butters was undeniably feminine and as un-guy-like as a guy could get, Eric wasn't 100% sure he was gay, and wouldn't want to ask.

"Tell me now. About Kyle, I mean." Butters pushed, climbing into Eric's bed and tucking his knees beneath the baggy shirt. He had removed his pants, and his bare toes wiggled about on the sheets.

Eric sighed, clambering into bed beside Butters and turning the volume down on the T.V. He wanted to witness Butters' reaction to the movie he picked, and no way did he want to make him miss the beginning crying over Kyle.

"I don't know, Butterscotch. It's like everytime I try to be nice, words just get mangled up and come out all wrong."

Butters nodded like he completely understood Eric's predicament, and that gave him confidence.

"Like today, I tried to say 'Oh hey, Kyle, how was your day yesterday?', and it came out something about his mom bitching out because him and Stan were fucking." Eric growled at his own inability to talk to Kyle before continuing. "The best I got out was that I liked his new shirt. And even then he just looked at me like I was a complete fuck-tard."

Butters patted Eric reassuringly, the shirt popping back over his knees to reveal his skinny legs. Eric smiled and pressed at Butters' thigh in just the right place to make him squeal. Butters giggled a little before becoming serious once more and looking Eric in the eye.

"You've got to control yourself, Eric." He instructed. "I know it's h-h-hard to tell someone you like them, but...but in the end it's g-got to be worth it, right?" He suddenly sounded unsure of himself, and his stutter had come back, something it didn't often do when he was around Eric.

Eric noted how Butters would not meet his eyes when talking about liking someone, and wondered for a brief moment if Butters could possibly like him. Then the image of Butters' apologetic and guitly expression when regarding Tweek, and comprehension dawned on his face.

"Butters, are you gay?"

Butters looked indignant and nodded his head once, proudly. "Of course I am, Eric!" He pouted.

"For who?"

"Tha-That's not relevant right now, is it?" Butters fudged, knocking his knuckles together.

Eric felt for sure it must be Tweek. He wondered how pissed that would make Craig when he found out. Craig, to the best of Eric's knowledge, hadn't attended school that day, otherwise no way would Butters and Tweek have been able to have a minute to themselves.

"Shush now." Eric patted Butters gently. "Let's watch."

And he hit play. Immeadiately realizing what he was in for, Butters whimpered and curled in on himself. Eric chuckled and threw an arm around his companion.

They fell asleep together after the movie, Butters clutching at Eric's chest and Eric hugging Butters to him tightly and protectively.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

WEDNESDAY

Eric and Butters were almost late to school the next day. If it hadn't been for Butters stressing out for about the fifth time about getting grounded, they would have most definately been in the late book. But today, Eric had growled, hauled Butters up onto his back, and run through the streets with him screeching full blast down his ear.

They were both giddy and grinning when they entered their classroom.

Kyle and Stan turned to look at them when the door opened. Butters sat behind Eric as usual, and Eric beside Kyle.

"Hello...Kyle." Eric's voice was strained with the effort of remaining civil.

"Cartman." Kyle replied seductively, and then turned to flick around Stan's hair. Kenny, beside Stan, huffed, and turned away.

"Hey Eric?" Butters hissed. "What _has _been up with Kenny recently?"


	3. WEDNESDAY: Kenny

Chapter Three  
WEDNESDAY  
Kenny

Kenny McCormick felt he had no-one.

He, Stan, Kyle, Eric and Butters were supposed to be a close-knit group of friends united against the tyranny of Craig and his gang. They were not supposed to fraternise with the enemy, as with Butters; fall in love, as seemed to by the case with Kyle and Stan; or become even more of a dickhole, as was always the case with Cartman.

Kenny flicked his gaze back to the couple beside him. Kyle was brushing through Stan's hair with his fingers, licking his lips in the most obvious way and wriggling about in his chair, apparently also trying to torture Eric behind him.

The truth of the matter was that Kyle was a tease. And once he discovered that two guys liked him, he switched into slut-mode, which wasn't really fun for anyone, especially not Kenny. Especially since one of the boys who had apparently fallen for Kyle was none other than whom Kenny suspected was the love of his life: Stan Marsh.

Kenny's feelings for Stan were not those of sudden realisation, but had slowly developed over the years. The boys had been friends for as long as they could remember, but Stan and Kyle had always been closer to eachother than to himself and Eric. Kenny was a close second for Stan, and when the noirette was not with Kyle, he was usually with Kenny doing something ridiculously brave and had, on several occasions, endangered his life.

Kenny had found himself liking Stan more and more. The dissapointment he faced when Stan had arrangements with Kyle was gargantuan. He would eagerly run over and announce something amazing they could do together, and Stan would simply jerk his thumb at Kyle and shrug guitily. Perhaps he was aware of Kenny's feelings, perhaps not. Kenny didn't care to tell him and face further humiliation and dissapointment.

The shrieking trill of the school bell signalled the end of class, and Kenny realized he had not listened to a single thing. He often did that, especially in classes he shared with the two fiends-Sorry, friends-Stan and Kyle.

Stan caught him at the door, tugging the back of his T-shirt.

"Hold up, Ken, we have math." He chuckled, and fell into step beside him.

"See you later, Stan!" Kyle called waggling his fingers at them. "Bye Ken!"

"See you!" Kenny and Stan yelled back as one, and grinned at eachother sheepishly. Butters and Tweek were headed up the corridor, heads almost knocking together with their closeness. Kenny wondered briefly why they were so chummy lately, but was distracted by Stan taking his hand and dragging him through the hordes of students making their way to class.

"We're gona be late again." Stan grumbled. Kenny peered at his face, and was surprised to see a light blush coating his tanned cheeks. He found himself thinking about whether the rest of Stan was tanned. And then thinking about the parts that most likely weren't.

He shook his head as they entered math class, and took his place beside Stan. He was good at math, and it was too bad there was so much in this class to distract him. Primarily Stan.

After their teacher's initial rant about the same old, same old, they were allowed to get down to work. Kenny shifted in his seat, finding a position where he was both comfortable, and could check out Stan while he jotted in his book.

Stan seemed distracted. Instead of working, he was doodling over the squared page in front of him. Kenny peeked at whatever it was he was drawing. It was a heavily decorated letter K, hearts, butterflies, and small birds circling it. Kenny looked back to Stan's face quickly, unwilling to acknowledge, even in his own mind, how obviously Stan was besotted with Kyle.

"Hey Ken?" Stan began tentatively, starting on having ivy trailing over the K.

"Hmm?" Was Kenny's response. He began to act unaware of Stan's edginess.

"I need to ask you something."

Kenny dropped his ball-point into the fold of his book and turned to Stan fully. Something was up, and Stan was choosing to confide in him. Had he told Kyle? Kenny didn't know, but Stan was telling him, and that's what was important.

"Shoot." He offered, and Stan weakly put his fingers together to form a gun, and 'banged' half-heartedly. He wouldn't meet Kenny's eyes.

"Are you...I mean, do you..." He shifted uncomfortably and rubbed the back of his neck. Kenny resisted the urge to shake him. His imagination was running away and he needed Stan to blurt out whatever ridiculous thing was bothering him so the torture would stop.

"Do I what, Stan?" Kenny asked kindly, smiling a little.

"Don't get mad okay?" Stan warned, holding a finger to Kenny's face. Kenny nodded.

"Like I could ever be mad at you."

Stan smiled for real then, and Kenny couldn't help but melt beneath his gaze. Stan was so pretty when he smiled. Stan was pretty all the time, but his smile magnified it by one hundred.

"Are you..." Stan pulled in a deep breath and seemed to wince as he whispered "Gay?".

Kenny didn't even hesitate. "Oh that? Yeah." Then he shrugged and slumped back in his seat, picking up his pen and scrawling the answer to another question.

When he glanced up, Stan was staring at him, mouth hanging open. And even that was a good look on him.

"What?" Kenny giggled after a few moments of silent gawking.

Stan quickly snapped out of his daze and stammered out "Nothing, I-I just thought you'd be...I mean, I guess I didn't know you were so...cool with it."  
"Oh, so you knew I was?" Kenny arched an eyebrow sarcastically and smirked. Stan laughed and shook his head, causing a landslide of ebony hair to cascade into his dark eyes.

"Not really. I had a hunch."

Kenny froze, his stomach lurching. Were his feelings for Stan that obvious? Had he and Kyle been laughing at poor, unfortunate Kenny, all alone in the world?

"Oh really?" He managed.

"Well, yeah..." Stan fidgeted, tapping his pencil rapidly against the table.

"Are _you_ gay?" Kenny questioned, and he liked the way Stan sunk back in his seat, as if he were some sort of perpetrator. It gave Kenny a sick pleasure, and yummy thoughts ensued within his own mind. But he quickly chased them away for a later date and focused on the situation at hand. His perverted nature was always put on hold where Stan was concerned.

Stan's eyes suddenly became confident,a stark contrast to the fear and awkwardness the rest of his body was emitting. He stared fixedly into Kenny's eyes and replied "Yes."

Kenny nodded and backed down, more than a little intimidated by Stan's sudden change of mood.

There were a few seconds of silence before both boys dared look at eachother once more and ask simultaniously "Who?"

_You. _Kenny thought, gripping the edge of his seat tightly.

"Not telling."

"I'll tell when you tell." Stan chuckled. But there was that blush once more, speading like dye across his cheeks.

"How about a bet?" Kenny challeneged, getting ahead of himself as usual.

"I'm listening..." Stan smirked.

"First one to loose it with Cartman." Kenny decided.

"Deal."

They shook on it, cemeting the agreement with challenging eyes. Kenny's smile said daring. Stan's looked more like drunken stupidity.

Kyle was, as usual, waiting for them outside class, Cartman tapping his foot impatiently beside him. Kenny saw Stan watching him as Kyle took his hand and led him up the hall. Kenny couldn't help but let out a long-suffering sigh. Stan looked down at his and Kyle's interlocked fingers with a guilty shame on his face Kenny had never seen before.


	4. WEDNESDAY: Stan

Chapter Four  
WEDNESDAY  
Stan

Stan felt horrible as Kenny's face disappeared behind the crowds in the halls. He knew he would catch up eventually, and that he was with Cartman, but having been dragged off by Kyle felt like a betrayal.

After seeing the hurt on Kenny's face when Kyle laced his fingers between Stan's, there was no doubt in Stan's mind that his previous theory had been proved, and that Stan knew who Kenny liked, almost for sure.

It was Kyle.

It was obvious in the way Kenny always huffed and became mute when Stan and Kyle got close. Obvious by the way he stared at Stan accusingly. And Stan felt horrible for not putting a stop to Kyle's somewhat innapropriate behaviour.

If Stan was honsest with himself, he would embrace the part of him that rejoiced in Kenny's misinterpretations. There was nothing, not one iota of romantic feeling between himself and Kyle.

Because Stan loved Kenny.

He had for a while now, secretly pining for him behind closed doors. He admired the way the blonde didn't give two shits about anything. He was, for the most part, a laid back, good looking guy. All the girls wanted him, some of the guys too. He was, by far, one of the most handsome young men to attend South Park High.

And he liked Kyle. This undeniable fact left Stan cold and dead on the inside. Why couldn't Kenny see that Kyle was little more than a common whore? The way he danced provocatively before himself and Eric, the way he touched people, the way he licked his lips when he talked. All the usual signs, and yet Kenny was still blissfully unaware that Kyle, as far as Stan was concerned, was incapable of love.

He knew this because he knew of Cartman's soft spot for the redhead too, and Kyle was more cruel to him than you could ever imagine. It was mostly light teasing, wriggling his posterior around when he rose from his seat and sucking pencils and markers and just about any other object he could fit in his mouth. Stan knew this must kill Eric deep inside, knowing he couldn't have Kyle. He knew becaue he felt that when when he walked behind Kenny in the halls, and that sweet ass was hugged tight by bright jeans. He felt like that when Kenny looked at Kyle and sighed sighs of longing.

Tweek and Butters brushed past him after lunch. It seemed they had not been to the cafeteria, and had instead been deeply indulged in their conversation elsewhere. Stan found it strange to see Tweek away from Craig, but recalled not having seen him since his climbing over the fence yesterday. He wondered where he was and if he approved of Tweek's sudden friendship with the other small blonde. Or if he even knew about it, which Stan doubted. If he was Tweek, and Craig had a feeling of dominance over him, he would certainly keep other engagements as secret as possible where other boys were involved.

"H-hey, Eric!" Came Butters' cheerful voice from behind him, and Stan smiled. How Butters was able to stand Eric he would never know.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A/N: Hey, just thought I'd say feel free to review. I've gotten a few emails saying people are subscribing and stuff, so yeah...that (: (This is me secretly begging you to tell me what you think. I want to know if I've gotten characters right and stuff, I stress about it... :P xxx


	5. WEDNESDAY: Butters

Chapter Five  
WEDNESDAY  
Butters

Butters smiled up at Eric, striding along beside him. Being much smaller than Eric, Butters had to take several steps to match Eric's long strides, but he didn't mind. He liked that Eric was tall. When he stood beside him he felt small and protected. He especially felt this way when Eric wrapped his arms around him. Unfortunately, Eric could never be that sweet in public, and often resorted to insulting Butters when other people were around. On their own, though, Eric could be the sweetest boy on Earth, and that was saying a lot, considering there were boys like Butters alive and thriving.

No one was around in the halls now, as most had congregated at the table assigned to their clique in the cafeteria, and so Eric reached out and took Butters' hand. Butters turned away to hide his blush. He was secretly thrilled that, if anyone should see them, they would think they were a couple.

Butters had always liked Eric. Everyone knew it except Eric himself, who remained perfectly oblivious to the fact. But everyone else knew that Butters worshipped the ground Eric walked on, and would do pretty much anything for him.

But, as far as Butters was concerned, they didn't know the half of it.

Here was Butters, clearly smitten with Eric, attempting to help Eric be with Kyle, a boy Butters knew would break Eric's heart as soon as he had it. In fact, Butters felt sure Kyle was already in the process. The way he paraded himself around with Stan in front of Eric was just sick. And Butters hated it. He would never treat Eric like that and Eric knew it, but he couldn't accept the fact that they were meant for eachother. They were the perfect couple. To put it in derogatory, Eric-like terms: They were a catcher and a top.

But it was more than that. Butters looked up at Eric's strong jaw, his pretty, deep eyes, his soft brunette hair. Then he looked down at himself. He was short, but he had been referred to on many occasions as 'pretty' or 'cute'. Girls didn't like him, but Kenny had certainly shown an interest in getting in his pants, if not having a serious relationship. Tweek certainly seemed to think there was nothing wrong with him.

Guilt slammed into him, as well as Eric's free hand as he pushed him into the bathroom. Butters stumbled in, mind finally clear of Eric and full of Tweek.

He felt so bad about what he had done. He hadn't realized how dangerous it was kissing in school. He'd thought they were safe behind the wall but apparently not.

Butters and Tweek were not in love. They had bonded over the fact they were both in love with their best friends; Tweek with Craig and Butters with Eric. They had formulated plans and thrown away scheme after scheme to confess these secrets to the objects of their desires. Eventually they decided the easiest way was to blurt it out. So, to gain confidence, they agreed to practise.

Yesterday had been their first time. Neither had ever kissed a boy before. Butters was rather satisfied with the result, minus the fact that Craig had caught them in the act. According to Tweek, he had tried several times to get to Craig's house. But, being the twitchy, paranoid little boy he was, he had only gotten as far as the top of Craig's street before he freaked out. Butters felt so sorry for Tweek. But the kiss had definately instilled confidence on that front.

He turned to face Eric, and his gut wrenched as he imagined kissing him. He thought he was going to throw up, a la Stan.

"What're we doing, Eric?" He asked.

"I need a piss, what do you think?" Eric rolled his eyes and there came the sound of his zipper being pulled. Butters couldn't help but imagine those soft lips on his own, and blushed a deep beetroot colour when his jeans dug into his hardening dick. He hated it when that happened. He was so gosh-darn easy!

He waited patiently whilst Eric did his business and then smiled at him hopefully.

"Oh, and I wanted to ask you to stay over again tonight. Tell your parents we're doing a project or something."

"W-why?"

"Cause..." Eric smiled in that devious way that made Butters tingle. "I want you to watch the sequal to that movie."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Butters wasn't actually all that opposed to scary movies. He actually preferred them to most movies, probably because only Eric made him watch them, and he let him cuddle up to him if he got 'scared'. Typically, Butters was often reffered to as a pussy. It was worth it to have Eric pull him onto his lap and whisper into his hair when he really did freak out. Some of the movies were really, _really_ scary.

Tonight, Butters was extremely comfortable. He had brought his pyjamas with him, which consisted of an old, tight shirt and short shorts. Well, why not? If Kyle could wiggle his butt around in Eric's face then so could Butters. And he did, so much. Any everytime he bent over he was pleased to report he saw Eric looking. Butters felt his butt was his best feature and he liked to wear tight jeans and shorts, as opposoed to the baggy pants his peers wore, to show it off.

Eric was undeniably uncomplaining on the matter, and this pleased Butters no end.


	6. THURSDAY: Craig

Chapter Six  
THURSDAY  
Craig

Craig, since leaving school on Tuesday, had holed himself up in his room and refused to come out. His parents not being around, this was a piece of cake. The house was slowly decending into chaos and Craig didn't give a shit. All he cared about was that Tweek had betrayed him.

No. Even Craig had to admit that was unfair. Tweek couldn't possibly know how he felt. And, even if he did, he would probably still want to be with Butters. He was a much better choice. Better than monotonous, narcissistic, protective Craig.

Craig slammed his palm against the wall. He noticed the time on the watch dangling from his wrist. School was out by now. Everyone else was at home with parents who cared what the fuck their kids did.

Craig groaned, with both lonliness and sadness, and mashed his face into the bedclothes, scrunching it up within his fists.

The doorbell trilled loudly, and Craig groaned harder. Although he was lonely, the company at the door probably wasn't the company he craved. His suspicions were confirmed when he opened the front door to see Clyde's smiling face.

"Hey Craig!" Clyde grinned happily.

"Hey Clyde..." Craig sighed, stepping aside to let him in. Clyde began to fidget with his gloves intently, not looking Craig in the eyes, and Craig wanted to laugh. He knew Clyde had a little crush on him. Maybe he could use that.

"Hey, Clyde...Still crazy about Kyle?" Craig asked casually, lips twitching when Clyde scowled. Kyle turned him down, not even bothering to tease him mercilessly as he did with the other boys. Clyde was obviously heartbroken. He shook his head fiercely, blinking away the tears forming in his eyes. "Aww, poor Crybaby." Craig cooed, taking Clyde's hand and leading him up the stairs.

"I'm not crying!" Clyde snapped. His constant tears were regarded as a bad habit. Craig stroked his wrist idley with his thumb and felt Clyde tremble.

When the boys reached Craig's room, Craig roughly pushed Clyde inside and shut the door, leaning on it heavily and looking his victim up and down slowly, like a predator surveying it's prey.

"What?" Clyde asked uncomfortably. Craig strode foreward. Never once did he touch Clyde, but merely came closer to emphasise their difference in height. Clyde may have been bulkier, but Craig was a good few inches taller, and a lot stronger.

"Take off your clothes." Craig demanded quietly.

"What?"

"I said take off your clothes!" Craig repeated, louder this time. He watched as Clyde's eyes darted around the room, and finally alighted on his shoes. Craig chuckled humourlessly and took another step foreward. Again, no contact was made, but he saw Clyde stiffen and hold still, waiting for an attack that was not going to come. After a few intense seconds of stillness, Clyde's hand lifted to the zip of his varsity jacket and tugged. The sound of the zip was all Craig needed, and he mashed his mouth to Clyde's.

Clyde's body responded positively, and he jerked the jacket away from his body before throwing his arms around Craig's neck and pulling off his hat. He tangled his fingers in the soft black hair and moaned. Craig chuckled again and tentatively touched Clyde's chest. When Clyde did nothing, Craig made quick work of the buttons of Clyde's shirt and threw that to join his jacket on the floor.

Clyde made no move to undress himself or Craig further, and Craig liked that. It gave him dominance in the stuation, which he liked. He unbuttoned Clyde's jeans and tugged them past his hips. They fell of their own accord to his knees. Craig brought his foot up to stamp them down to the floor, and Clyde obediently stepped out of them.

Craig did not open his eyes unless absolutely neccassary. He threw Clyde in the general direction of his bed and heard the springs groan under the sudden weight. He threw off his jeans and sweater hastily and jumped on top of Clyde, who looked up at him with hazel eyes completely void of fear. Then he crushed their mouths together once more, awkwardly tearing at Clyde's shorts until they, too, were separated from his body.

And now there was only a single piece of cloth keeping Craig off Clyde. He grasped hungrily at any part of the other boy he could reach: ass, chest, hair, thighs, you name it, Craig clawed it. Clyde could be heard gasping, Craig felt him wince on more than one occasion. But did he care? No. Because Craig was angry, and right now the only thing that could help him was hot, meaningless, animal sex.

Clyde didn't seem to be able to wait any longer and pinged the elastic of Craig's shorts in a silent question. Craig kicked off the shorts without a second thought, and Clyde allowed himself to be positioned to Craig's liking, all the while concentrating on keeping his lips locked with Craig's. This became considerably more difficult when Craig flipped him over, and eventually the noirette pushed Clyde's face into the bedsheets, holding him there by roughly gripping his hair.

Craig was not a loving lover, that was for sure. Perhaps if he really cared for Clyde, he would be gentle and patient. But he did not, and so was not. He pushed into Clyde without warning, and did not give him time to adjust to the fact he was filled up before beginning to pull his hips to him, and push them away again rapidly, all the while keeping a firm grip on a hank of brown hair.

Both boys kept their eyes squeezed shut. Craig could hear a name, beneath Clyde's hitching breath, that was certainly not his own. But he didn't mind, because Clyde was not the one he was thinking of either. As the case stood, when he reached climax, his vision was filled with the face of a blonde, twitchy male whom he knew very well...

He threw Clyde away from him when he was done with him. Clyde had already came, and so he didn't complain, being content just laying there in his daze. Craig may not have been a gentle lover but he was good at what he did, and he knew it, if the way his lips twitched had anything to do with it.

Craig got up first, slipping on his shorts and hat, but nothing more. Then he sat at his desk and turned on his old computer. He refused to look at Clyde as he dressed. When he was done, Craig twirled his chair around and steepleed his fingers.

"You can go now, or you can stay and play."

"I kind of have to go..." Clyde answered, rubbing his palms together. His nervousness made Craig's eyes light up, and he gestured to the door.

"Thanks for coming." Craig said, and the sarcasm was clear, though he never broke his monotone.

Clyde ran from the room. Craig heard the front door shut with a satisfying slam. Alone in his room, Craig allowed the tiniest of smug smiles, as a lone tear tracked it's way oxymoronically down his cheek. He knew what would happen next. Clyde would run and run and keep running until he found himself on a familiar street. He would knock on the front door of Bebe Steven's house and he would flirt with her all night until they ended up making out, or maybe even sleeping together. Craig knew this because it happened all the time. Clyde got a crush on a guy, couldn't take it, and covered up his homosexuality by running to Bebe. Who didn't want him. And he didn't want her.

Craig rested his head in his arms and tried to stop thinking.

It didn't work.


	7. FRIDAY: Bebe

Chapter Seven  
FRIDAY  
Bebe

Bebe Stevens tugged at her boring straight hair, looked into the mirror of her boring white bathroom, attatched to her boring pink bedroom, and continued her boring morning routine. But this time there was a feeling of edginess to it, mostly caused by the boy half naked and snoring in her bed.

Bebe gave Clyde a dispairing glance, the urge to smother him with a fluffy pink pillow surprisingly strong. How many times were they going to do this? How many times were they going to try? She wondered how Token would feel when she and Clyde emerged from her house together. Token's house had a clear view of her front door, and he had probably already seen Clyde enter and knew this was coming. He was probably on the phone to Wendy while Bebe was stuck here, tugging her hair into submission and trying to endure the rythmic snores of Clyde Donovan.

She threw her curlers down with a clatter and growled angrily, but when Clyde jerked and sat up, pulling her blankets around himself protectively, she couldn't help but laugh.

"Good morning, hot stuff." She purred, wiggling over to Clyde and slipping beneath the sheets with him once more. Clyde didn't reply, but he slipped an arm around her shoulders while he stared blankly at the floor.

They stayed there for a good ten minutes before there was a knock on Bebe's door. Bebe jumped and looked at Clyde with a definate 'oh shit' expression. She was aware Clyde had seen it by the way he jumped into action, hunting for his clothes in the mess on the floor.

Bebe opened the door a crack and squeaked when she saw Token there, looking freshly shaven and showered, a stark contrast to the hairy, smelly boy struggling to get into his pants behind her.

"Token!" She cried, and heard Clyde shift at the flirtatious tone.

Clyde yanked the door out of her grasp and held it open wide, revealing the rumpled bed, his rumpled hair, the whole mess. Token took it in with an unrevealing expression, and waited patiently for Clyde to track down his varsity jacket.

The walk to school was awkward, for Bebe at the very leased. She shuffled betwen the two boys, head down and the usual bounce gone from her step. The boys marched either side of her like bodyguards, looking at neither her or eachother.

When they reached the school gates, Bebe and Token were to turn left, and Clyde right. Clyde leaned down and planted a kiss on Bebe's cheek, making her jump, and redden considerably. A low growl could be heard from beside her, and all of a sudden Token's fist was flying towards Clyde's face.

Bebe screamed as her 'boyfriend' hit the floor, clutching his cheek where Token had struck. The kids who had been milling around now gathered in a loose circle around them to watch. Bebe simply stood with her hands over her mouth, unflinching as Token beat Clyde down to the floor, and began to kick him with his hard boots.

Cell phones were retrieved from pockets, both to alert others of the brawl and to record the events for those who weren't going to make it. Token furiously dragged Clyde up and whacked him in the face a second time, this time square in the nose. There was a collective 'ouch' from the audience.

Bebe scanned the crowd, searching for someone stronger than she to stop time. Perhaps Wendy, who had seperated many a schoolyard brawl by simply standing there, had been known to expertly flip grown men over her shoulder with ease. She would definately get Token's attention. But Bebe couldn't even see Wendy's pink beret over the heads of the crowd.

She focused her attention on Craig, standing with a blank face amongst a group of heckling adolescents. That boy never smiled. Not that she was expecting him to be at such a time when his friend was about to kill his other friend. But maybe he should be doing something? She pleaded with both him and God for him to assert his authority over both boys and end the fight, but he did no such thing. She watched Tweek lay a hand on his arm, and watched Craig jerk away. Then he turned his back and left the circle. Tweek paused for only a second before following.

A sickening thud was heard as Token dropped Clyde to the floor and set up his foot for a final, possibly fatal blow to the head.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A/N: Sorry for such a short chapter, but it goes nicely. Will I save Clyde, or will he die...or maybe become a vegetable? I think that would upset Craig greatly. He'd have no-one to take his frustration out on next time ;) Anyways, I'll make u[p for the shortness of this chapter by uploading again tomorrow instead of waiting a few days. So you won't have to wait as long to know whether someone helps Clyde. God forbid Bebe say anything (Eye roll).


	8. FRIDAY: Token

Chapter Eight  
FRIDAY  
Token

Token brought his foot foreward, and it appeared to him to be in slow motion. He craved the feeling of Clyde's skull caving beneath his boot. Clyde wrapped his hands around his head and curled into a ball, but it wouldn't help him. There was still much tufty brown hair left uncovered.

"Hey!" Screamed an authoritive voice. "Leave him the fuck alone!"

Token paused, foot in mid swing. Clyde used the opportunity to drag himself up and stagger away, into the waiting arms of Kyle. Beside Kyle were Kenny McCormick and Stan Marsh, arms folded, standing together like soldiers.

"What do you think you're doing?" Kenny asked of him calmly. Token ran foreward, reaching for Clyde, wanting that last kick to make the outbust worthwhile. Kenny and Stan grabbed one of each of his arms and dragged him to the furthest edge of the circle from Clyde. Kyle remained holding Clyde. Although he was just as strong as Kenny and Stan, he was left holding the injured soldier once more.

"We'll ask again." Stan murmured, setting Token down on the grass. He and Kenny towered above him, and Token held still. "What do you think you're doing?"

With Clyde out of reach Token's tough exterior was waning. He didn't want to be a violent kid. Or maybe it had more to do with the fact that he didn't want to fight a McCormick/Marsh tornado. He'd seen them fight other kids before, and they were tough to beat. Kenny was skinny, but tall and apparently hiding a little muscle behind his tatty old jacket. Stan was broader, a little shorter than Kenny, but around equal in strength.

"Okay, boys. Break it up." Called the school councillor from where he battled his way through the hoardes of students. He was a little late for the party. The stripper had jumped out of the cake and everybody had had a piece. "What's going on here?"

"Token was beating on Clyde." Kenny informed him smugly. Token scowled at Kenny. He didn't notice, but Stan did, and subtly gave Token the finger.

"Well, Token Black, I think you can come with me."

Token followed without argument. Kenny picked Clyde from Kyle's arms and strode after him. Stan stood strong beside him, Kyle following at a safe distance, wiping his hands on his jeans and muttering about soap.

"We'll take Clyde to the nurses office." Kenny informed the councillor, and he nodded. Kenny, Stan and Kyle turned off in that direction and Token continued to follow the councillor to his office.

"Now, Token, what made you brutally attack that young boy?"

Token did not answer. Truth be told, he was pretty damn pleased with himself. Clyde hadn't been crying as Kenny carried him away, and that had to count for something. Clyde cried at everything. If he wasn't crying it either meant he was out cold or in shock, and either of these outcomes would please Token immensely.

"Token, I demand an answer." "Token, I need to know what's wrong with you." "Token, this isn't like you." "What did Clyde do, Token?" Token's own name was beginning to sound alien and unfamiliar. He didn't like it.

Token shrugged. He shook his head, held out his hands, he looked at his feet. But he would not talk. The councillor tried questioning him for a further five minutes before becoming frustrated, suspending him for two weeks, and dismissing him officially.

Token excited the office to find Bebe, sitting in the hard plastic chair outside.

She looked up when he cleared his throat. "Token."

"Bebe."

And she stood and kissed him. Clyde, they knew, would not be a problem anymore.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A/N: Special thanks to SparklesMakeMeHappy, who saved Clyde's life. Token wears steel toe-caps, don't you know?


	9. FRIDAY: Craig Again

Chapter Nine  
FRIDAY  
Craig Again

Craig settled himself on the grass and closed his eyes, turning his face towards the rare sun. Though it was weak, it allowed him to relax and made his lips twitch in an almost genuine smile.

He had thought he was alone, and the smile quickly turned to anger when someone hesitantly tapped his shoulder.

"What?" He snapped, turning his head sharply. Tweek cowered away from him, sheilding his face. "Don't kill me!" He yelled, and Craig found it hard to remain annoyed seeing Tweek spaz out like everything wasn't going wrong. But he _was_ annoyed, he reminded himself, and he began to rip up the grass and shred it between his fingers. Tweek clenched hanks of his hair in his fists and stammered syllables. Craig was only very slightly aware of his own hands coming up to tug his hat strings. It was a defect that he hated, and he could only hope no-one ever clicked that he only did it when nervous.

He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he jumped a little when two small hands took his wrists and pulled his hands away from his hat. Tweek smiled sadly, and placed Craig's hands in the grass. He did not let go. Craig did not pull away.

"Why are you mad at me Craig?"

He sounded so calm, methodical, and Craig found that so funny. It was like Craig was the spaz, the one who needed to be calmed and reassured, and Tweek was collected, in charge.

For once, Craig didn't mind the swapping of roles.

"You know why." He answered. His eyes were dead, and he knew it. Here was the love of his life, who, three days ago, he had seen kissing another boy. Here was the love of his life, holding his hands, and he didn't even know it.

"It's not what you think."

"What is it then?"

Tweek sighed, and removed him hands from Craig's. Cold air invaded the warm space he had occupied.

"Butters and I are gay." He began, sitting cross-legged and perfectly still. Craig had always wondered about that. It seemed Tweek was nervous around everyone but him, like Craig himself calmed him somehow, without even trying. He dared not think of that as anything but close friendship, for the purpose of his sanity. "We both like two different guys."

Craig's head snapped up and he stared at Tweek, who now seemed unwilling to engage in eye-contact. His fingers began to tremble a little in the grass. "And we were practising."

Craig nodded like that was completely understandable, but inside, his mind-and his heart-were racing. If Tweek wasn't in a secret relationship with Butters, who did he like? Maybe it was Clyde, they spent a lot of time together...?

"So who were you practising for?" Craig couldn't help but ask. His eyebrow didn't even arch, and he knew the significance the question had to him was clearly portrayed on his face, but he couldn't help it. This was almost life or death. He couldn't let Tweek go. "And I swear if you say Kyle I'll scream."

Tweek lifted his coffee coloured eyes, and at leased attempted to keep them focused on Craig's green ones.

"You."


	10. FRIDAY: Kenny Again

Chapter Ten  
FRIDAY  
Kenny Again

"We were a good team back there, huh?" Stan smiled. He sat beside Kenny outside the nurse's office, waiting for Clyde to emerge so they could brag about how they saved him.

"Yeah..." Kenny replied vaguely, looking at his scuffed old sneakers. He could see Stan watching him through the hair that fell over his eyes, but he didn't look up.

"Ken? What's up?"

Kenny thought very hard about all the things he wanted to say to the boy sitting beside him. Carefully, he picked one to voice. "Stan, why do you like Kyle?"

Stan sat back and puffed out a sigh. Kenny flicked back his bangs and looked Stan in the eye for the first time since he laid Clyde on the table in the nurse's office. "I-uh..." Stan fumbled for words, and Kenny took sick pleasure in watching his discomfort. If he thought his crush on Kyle wasn't obvious, he was wrong. If he thought Kenny didn't particularly mind, he was wrong.

If he thought Kenny didn't like him, he was positively, definately, undeniably wrong.

"I guess he's...Well, I'm...He..." Stan sighed again and met Kenny's gaze. "I don't."

Kenny's heart stopped, losing a beat before picking up again and accelerating wildly. If Stan didn't like Kyle, then maybe, just maybe, he, Kenny, had a chance.

"Oh..." Kenny replied non-chalantly, leaning back in his chair with his elbows resting casually against the headrest. "Then who do you like?"

"Someone else..." Stan fudged. A thrill of excitement ran down Kenny's spine. This was it.

"Stan, I can't do this anymore." The words spilled out of him before he could stop them, and once Kenny started running his mouth, he never stopped until interrupted. So he stayed vigilant and decided to listen to himself.

"Can't...Can't do what?"

"I can't keep being your friend feeling like I do."

Stan's eyes widened, the blue pools glistening in the blinking hall lights.

"How you-What are you-Huh?"

"I don't want you to be mad, okay?" Kenny gripped Stan's shoulders tight and tried to hide his shit-eating grin. To be honest, he knew he was being so cliched, and he didn't care. He loved a little drama.

Plus, how many people did Stan know with the letter K as their first initial?

"Be mad? Why-How could I-Huh?"

Stan was just adorable when he stuttered, and Kenny had to stop himself from kissing him right then and not waiting until the end of the act.

"I'm in love with you, Stan. I have been for a while."

Stan's eyes widened further, and Kenny stared into them beseechingly.

"Kenny...I...huh?"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A/N: Stan makes me laugh so hard in this chapter (:


	11. FRIDAY: Kyle

Chapter Eleven  
Kyle

The bathroom door swung open and Kyle jerked away from the mirror quickly. He drew the back of his hand across his eyes, but he knew it wouldn't do any good. He looked terrible, and whoever it was would know for sure he'd been crying. Big fat baby sobs, blubbing, simply watching the tears roll down his face and plop into the sinks below.

It turned out to be Clyde, which made Kyle feel slightly better, since Clyde was crying too by now. The nurse had done a typically shitty job of cleaning Clyde up, and several orifaces were still bleeding. Kyle guessed this was why Clyde was in the bathroom. He reddened and shifted uncomfortably, for although Clyde made him more comfortable on the crying front, there was the whole 'this guy asked me out' factor to consider.

"Oh." Sniffed Clyde. As usual, when he saw Kyle, he straightened and ran a hand through his silky brown hair. "Hey, Kyle."

"Hi, Clyde." Kyle shuffled his feet. Clyde moved foreward to the sinks, and began to run warm water over his fingers. Kyle watched as he plugged up the sink and began attempting to clean his own cuts. He winced and gasped frequently, and eventually Kyle sighed and took his wrists.

"Here." He breathed. "Let me."

Clyde just nodded, dropping his arms to his sides and allowing Kyle to dab at him softly and gently. Kyle watched as Clyde's face reddened slowly, and felt a little thrill of pleasure within him. His most recent letdown had left him without entertainment. Clyde could help with that. Then he gathered himself. This was why he said no. This was how he ended up crying in the bathrooms like some sissy girl. He had to quit thinking like this. Clyde was a nice guy, Clyde was good looking, Clyde was funny and goofy and sweet.

In short, Clyde was perfect. Especially as he was also 'dumb'. This made him perfect, specifically, for _Kyle. _Because Kyle loved dumb people.

"So what happened to you?" Clyde asked as Kyle dried beneath his nose with toilet paper.

"Huh? Oh, nothing..." Kyle replied quietly. He averted his eyes, and felt Clyde do the same. He knew that in Clyde's eyes he had turned him down, but that wasn't really it. Kyle was just a tease. But he didn't want to play games with Clyde.

"It's okay, you know." Clyde told him. "You know Craig?" Kyle nodded. Clyde looked on edge, as if considering carefully what to say next. Then he puffed out a sigh, defeated, and said, "He...uh, well...He had sex with me. He kind of...used me.".

Kyle felt his jaw begin to drop and hastened to snap it shut. He'd known Clyde was gay, of course, but Craig was a shock. He'd always seen Craig as a big tough ladies man. He'd never really considered the prospect. And what a dick, too! How dare he use Clyde like that? It wasn't as if Clyde was a virgin, Bebe had made sure of that, but still, it was a pretty low thing to do. Craig was smart. Kyle expected more of him.

Poor Clyde. Poor, perfect Clyde.

"I'm sorry, dude. That must be rough." He sympathised. But Clyde, rather than nodding, smiled.

"It's okay. It made me realize what's important. As did the beating I got from Token."

"And what's that?" Kyle threw the tissues into the trash can and leaned his hands on the sinks. He watched as Clyde inspected himself in the mirror and tried to fix himself further, straightening his jacket, pulling a comb from his pocket and running it through his hair. Kyle couldn't help but be glad that other boys did this. In a morning, Kyle spent hours fussing over what he wore and how it made his butt look etc etc. Before he'd chopped off all his hair, he'd put product upon product on it to keep it in submission. It was funny to see someone else do it for a change. Funny, but cute.

"I like this guy." Clyde told him finally, turning to look him in the eye. "And now I know that I should stick with my gut feeling."

Clyde opened the bathroom door and left. Kyle, upon being left alone again, felt the tears threatening to spill over once more.

Karma was a bitch.

. . . . . . . .

A/N: Been meaning to do this for a while but kept forgetting, so thanking SparklesMakeMeHappy and World-1, plus my anon reviewer ;) Thanks for reading and all your fun comments, some of which made me laugh :D xxx

PS: If you're wondering why Kyle is crying, you'll find out next chapter... :D


	12. FRIDAY: Stan Again

Chapter Twelve  
FRIDAY  
Stan Again

"Aw fuck, I can't believe we made Kyle cry." Kenny laughed, pushing Stan further into the soft sheets on his bed.

Stan grinned too. It was hard to feel bad when the boy of your dreams was straddling you, holding your arms above your head by your wrists. It was even harder to feel bad when the man of your dreams admits that you're the man of his dreams, too.

"Maybe we should invite him over..." Kenny mused. Stan raised his eyebrows.

"You wish, McCormick!"

Kenny continued to chuckle as he kissed and nipped at Stan's neck, and Stan giggled, twisting his fingers into Kenny's hair. Kenny laid his cheek against Stan's chest and sighed. That's when Stan flipped them over and held Kenny's wrists instead.

"The fuck?" Kenny laughed.

"You didn't think I was a bottom, did you?" Stan laughed right back. Kenny paled a little but said nothing, allowing Stan to throw off their jackets. He attempted to free his wrists in order to take off his shirt, but Stan 'ah ah ah'ed sweetly and did it himself. Kenny seemed to enjoy this, and Stan was glad the transition from dominant to dominated hadn't bothered him so much.

"How many people have you done this with anyway?" Kenny asked suddenly, and Stan stopped.

"Dude!" He laughed. "I'm a virgin!"

"Oh...So why can't you be bottom?" Kenny yelled. Stan growled at him, and he shut up. Stan took his silence as an invitation to continue and hastily unzipped Kenny's fly. Pulling off Kenny' pants was the easiest thing he'd ever done, and that was comforting. He was doing this right, he was sure. He sat back to survey his work.

"Oh, Stan? Stanley?" Kenny called up to him sweetly.

"Huh?"

Kenny grabbed Stan and tackled him onto the floor. The furniture shook violently, but no-one was home, so it didn't matter. Stan tried to wrestle with Kenny for dominance, but Kenny was strong, as proven when he carried Clyde around earlier, and Stan gave up, panting. Kenny took this opportunity to take off Stan's clothes entirely. Apparently, Kenny wasn't one for taking it slow.

And so here was Stan, entirely exposed to Kenny on his bedroom floor, and Kenny still had his dignity, his shirt, and his underwear. Now that was hardly fair. Stan took the innocent approach and tugged at the offending items gently. Kenny smiled down at him and undressed himself.

Stan's eyes roved over Kenny's pale skin, freckled with various bruises in hues of purple, blue and yellow. When he reached Kenny's midsection he looked up into the blonde boys eyes and muttered "Crap. You're huge."

"Don't be embarrassed, Stan, you're a growing boy!" Kenny smirked. Stan spluttered.

"So are you!" He cried, covering his own penis with his hands in shame.

"Hey, none of that!" Kenny laughed, forcing his hand beneath Stans' and squeezing.

"Ahhh!" Stan squirmed, eyes closing. Kenny raised his eyebrows.

"No one else has ever touched that before!" Stan snapped in explanation, and Kenny nodded in understanding. He continued to stroke Stan's penis slowly and soothingly, until Stan had relaxed back onto the carpet, eyes closed. As soon as Stan was fully relaxed, Kenny grinned and began pumping his hand up and down. Stan shot up, yelling out profanities. Kenny stopped to laugh hysterically, and Stan's scowl returned.

"Right. That's it." Stan warned, grabbing Kenny by the wrist and pulling him back to the bed. He flung Kenny down and threw his legs over his shoulders, and Kenny whimpered a little as he realized they weren't playing games anymore.

"I warned you!" Stan laughed, as he placed his forefinger at Kenny's entrance, stroking it playfully. Kenny stilled immediately and shivered a little. He was no longer protesting.

Stan pushed in his finger, causing Kenny to gasp a little, but otherwise his lover seemed to enjoy it. He worked in his second finger, attempting to prepare Kenny for something much thicker. Kenny began to writhe a little, and Stan smiled. Kenny's eyes slitted open and he managed to flip Stan off before collapsing in pleasure once more.

Stan slid in his third and final finger and spread them a little. Kenny lifted his lower half and groaned.

"Okay, okay, no more. Get in there, big man."

Even when seen in a horrifically exposed position (Such as having another guys fingers in his ass), Kenny was making jokes. Stan loved it. He smiled lovingly, taking out his fingers and leaning foreward to kiss Kenny's soft lips.

When they first kissed an hour before, it had felt exactly the same. They had run from the school and straight to Stan's house. Which was probably a good idea. Kenny would not have been able to control himself for the rest of the school day, and Stan had the feeling he would have been dragged into a closet had they waited an longer.

Stan positioned himself and slowly began to move into Kenny. Kenny clutched the bedsheets and screwed his eyes tight shut, but when Stan asked if he would like a slower march, he shook his head.

"Don't make me wait." Kenny begged in a tight voice. And so Stan continued to ease his way in.

"Done." Stan told him gently. Kenny jerked up and began kissing Stan roughly, kicking Stan into gear and groaning as he began to thrust into him.

Stan had never felt so loved.

. . . . . . . . .

A/N: Aww! Another happy couple ;) who's next? :D


	13. FRIDAY: Craig A Third Time

Chapter Thirteen  
FRIDAY  
Craig a Third Time

"You." Craig pointed at Tweek disbelievingly. "Like me?" And his finger swung around to himself. Tweek nodded, pink staining his cheeks like dye. His fingers continued to twist in the grass, but he kept his eyes trained on Craig's.

"But...But you can't!" Craig exclaimed, throwing up his hands.

"Gah! Why-nng-not?" Tweek asked, looking hurt. Craig's outbust was causing his twitches to worsen, and Craig knew he should calm down. The boy he liked had just told him he liked him too, and he was yelling at him.

"Because you're supposed to like someone who can take care of you! You're supposed to like someone who's always nice to you!" Craig explained, a little quieter.

Tweek looked confused. "But Craig, you do take care of me! And you are nice to me!"

"Tweek. Seriously." Craig warned, not wanting to gain hope.

"Seriously! Craig!" Tweek looked exasperated. He grabbed Craig's shoulders and shook them as he spoke. "You're the one who makes me wear your hat when it's-nng-cold! You're the one who always does the buttons on my coats! No one else is patient enough!"

"That's just cause I love you, Tweekers." Crag sighed. Tweek froze. It was like every speck of spaz went right out of him.

"You...You do?"

"Yeah."

And that's when Tweek lunged forewards and tackled Craig into the grass, hugging him tight and running his mouth so fast Craig didn't understand him. But he didn't need to. He just wrapped his arms around Tweek and let his chin rest in his soft bonde hair. After a few minutes, though, when Tweek was still talking and being a total boner-kill, Craig wrenched his head up and pushed their mouths together gently.

Their lips barely touched. It was the sweetest thing ever seen on the grounds of South Park High.


	14. FRIDAY: Eric Again

Chapter Fourteen  
FRIDAY  
Eric Again

Their teacher was really pissed off that hardly any students were sitting in her class. Kenny and Stan had climbed over the fence, Token was sent home, Bebe followed him, and Craig and Tweek were making out on the soccer field. Even Kyle and Butters were mysteriously absent. Only Eric, Clyde and assorted background characters remained. And so class was dismissed on the grounds that the subject was too important to miss but too boring to teach twice.

Eric stomped into the bathroom (Because where else was he supposed to go?) and discovered his first missing person.

Kyle.

"Eric!" Kyle purred brightly. But his heart wasn't in it, and Eric could tell. Even as the boys smiled at eachother, he felt that both smiles were meant for someone else.

"Hey Kyle. Teacher's pissed at you." Eric commented. Kyle rolled his eyes, stepping towards Eric slowly. Eric leaned against the wall tiredly. Where the heck was Butters? It was on this he was concentrating when he felt Kyle's arms slither around his neck, and saw Kyle's lips heading for his own. "Dude!" He yelled, slapping Kyle away and darting into the stall at his side.

"What? Huh?" Kyle pouted, but Eric saw past the flirtatious attitude. He saw something Kyle could not come to terms with, and making out with Eric would not help him do so. "I thought you liked me?"

"Now, Kyle, even if I did, it's wrong to kiss people when you like someone else!" Eric wagged a finger tauntingly in Kyle's face. "So who is it? Is it Kenny?" Eric simpered lightly, and Kyle stuck out his bottom lip further.

"That's none of your business, Cartman!" He grumbled. Kyle huffed and crossed his arms, and that's when missing person number two showed up.

"Eric?" Came Butters' shaking voice, pushing open the bathroom door slowly. "Oh there you are!" He grinned, though his voice still shook. "Hey, Kyle!"

Kyle looked between the two of them a few times. Eric raised an eyebrow as if to say 'Yeah, and?', and Kyle flounced out.

"Wh-what's up with him?" Butters chuckled nervously, and Eric shrugged.

"I turned him down. He's upset that he can't have this hot-ass body." Eric accentuated the last word with a little wriggle, which made Butters laugh even more.

"So, you were looking for me?" Eric came out of the stall and stood by the sinks, Butters facing him. Butters' hands were locked behind his back and he scuffed a foot repeatedly over the floor.

"Y-yeah, I wanted to tell you something..." Eric couldn't help but wonder why his voice was shaking so bad. Was he going to cry?

"Well, what is it?" He pushed. Butters moved foreward to stand in front of Eric, breathing hard and looking fixedly into his eyes. Eric didn't move away, but looked down at the smaller boy with an amused smile on his face.

"I...I..." Butters placed his hands on Eric's chest, and Eric could feel them shake. "I love you!" Butters blurted out, and though he used Eric's shirt to drag him foreward a little, he still had to stand up on his toes in order to kiss him.

"What? Butters!" Eric held up his hands, palms out. "You can't just come in here and do that! Whoa! Hello!" Eric waved his hands around to make his point. Butters shrunk into a corner and stuck his thumb between his teeth. "You don't just...You don't just spring that on people!"

"G-gee, Eric, I'm s-sorry..." Butters whimpered. "If you don't l-like me back, I don't mind. I d-d-don't mind being your...f-friend."

Eric paused, staring at Butters, who had hunkered down so he was crouched in the corner where Kyle had tried to kiss him not minutes before.

"You're so dumb, Butters." Eric laughed softly, shaking his head.

"Wha-What?"

It took Eric two strides to cross to where Butters crouched. It was in a single motion that he lifted him, and pushed him against the wall. Butters automatically wrapped his legs around Eric's waist. Eric twisted his fingers into Butters' hair.

"Owie, Eric! I'm sorry! Put me d-"

"Shut up, Butters!" Eric sniggered, and pressed his lips to Butters cheek to give his little companion a better idea of what was going down.

"E-Eric?"

"I love you too, Butters. As much as I hate to admit it...I love you."

Butters grinned and planted another sweet little kiss on Eric's cheek.


	15. FRIDAY: Clyde At Last

Chapter Fifteen  
FRIDAY  
Clyde At Last

Clyde didn't know what to do with himself now class had been dismissed. He was wandering the halls aimlessly with his head down when he bumped into someone.

"Oops, sorry." He murmured, looking up. When he saw who it was he grinned and brightened. "Hey, Kyle." Kyle's huge green eyes raised from the floor and blinked slowly. Blink. Blink. "You okay, Kyle?" Clyde wanted Kyle to spill. He wanted to know why he'd been crying in the bathroom earlier, why he looked so hurt now, why he'd turned him down all those weeks ago.

Wait, what?

Oh yes, Clyde was still hopelessly smitten with Kyle Broflovski. And so the next words to come out of the redhead's mouth were the most thrilling Clyde had ever heard.

"Love me?"

"Yes sir!" Clyde replied enthusiastically, pulling Kyle into a bone-crushing bear hug and planting a kiss in his auburn curls, liked he'd dreamed of doing. He felt Kyle sigh and figured now was a better time than ever to ask his all-important question.

"Why should I believe you like me now, Kyle?" He asked, butterflies flapping around ceaselessly in his stomach.

"Oh, dear Lord, Clyde!" Kyle huffed. "I didn't even-"

"Huh? But you didn't even throw it in my face like you do with Eric, or Stan!"

"That's paralogism!" Kyle shrugged. "If you'd have considered the alternative you wouldn't have felt so crushed."

Clyde had no idea what paralogism meant. It meant twisted reasoning, but Clyde didn't really care. He was the kind of guy who valued smarts in other people, not in himself.

"What's the alternative?" He asked, giving a winning, jock smile to win Kyle over.

"That I didn't tease you because I like you too much." And before Clyde could respond with a kiss in that perfect moment, Kyle snapped. "Anyway, how can I be so sure you still like me? I know you humped Craig..." He gave Clyde a quick look over before adding "Or Craig humped you."

Clyde drew himself up indignantly. "For a genius, you're pretty retarded."

Kyle opened his mouth to respond, but Clyde's tongue got in the way.

A/N : So, SparklesMakeMeHappy, now you know the answers to your questions. This was the last chapter and the last happy couple, but I have an amazingly cute-dorable epilogue for you! I want to thank you all in advance for reading and reviewing and such. I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing, and I hope you're happy with the results. (: I love you guys.


	16. Epilogue: MONDAY: Tweek

Epilogue  
MONDAY  
Tweek

When Kyle Broflovski got stressed out about class, or home life, or anything really, he would lean back and press his back against Clyde's arm for reassurance. This was one of the many things Tweek had noted about his classmates. Even when Clyde wasn't being leaned on, he felt the need to put his hand flat on Kyle's knee, or brush his fingers idlely up his leg.

Beside these two were Stan and Kenny. The latter stared studiously towards the front of the room, though not angrily as he had before. The former's eyes darted to Kenny every so often, and his teeth would protrude and nibble at his bottom lip in desire. Tweek suspected the two were only just able to restrain themselves from jumping on eachother. Occasionally, though, Kenny would catch Stan's eye and they would either simultaniously ask to go to the bathroom, or Kenny would reach out and unthinkingly stroke Stan's cheek.

Turning to smile at Butters, Tweek watched as the boy nervously tapped his knuckles together, the only habit apart from his own that hadn't changed in the last week. Butters waved cheerily, while Eric was distracted, playing with Butters' earlobe. Eric's new habit was that he could not, for the life of him, stop touching his boyfriend. If it wasn't his face, it was his shoulders, his hands, his thighs, his knees. The only place Eric had left to touch was Butters' dick. But that was probably way off. Butters was a delicate flower.

Tweek turned to the seat beside him. To perhaps the most dramatic and shocking change of habit of all. Beside him was Craig, turning, raven-black hair catching the sunlight from the windows in the back.

And the amazing thing was, everytime Craig and Tweek's eyes met...

Craig's face lit up with a beautiful, genuine, to-die-for smile.


End file.
